A love letter
by Lady Snowblossom
Summary: A grief stricken lover is writing to his beloved. Must read story to find out who is writing and who is being rewritten to. This is a death fic.


Title: A love letter  
  
Author: Lady Snowblossom  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Note: This is a deathfic.  
  
Pairing: Find the clue. Come on its not that hard. Evil aren't I?  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine! They belong to a big Corporation that has better things to do than harass a poor writer, who isn't making a dime, yen, rupee, drachma, shilling off this.  
  
The study was empty, when he entered. He had ordered a fire lit and then he had banned everyone from disturbing him. It has caused quite a row with his teammates, but after he had lost his temper, they let him go.  
  
He walked to a small table set with a carafe of wine and a single glass. Slowly lifting the carafe, he poured some of its fragrant contents into the glass, then went to the window and looked out. Outside, rain was falling and lightning danced across the sky in a furious show of raw power. He watched the awesome display and sipped from the wineglass.  
  
He stood there lost in thought, until the grandfather clock chimed eleven. Sighing, he turned to walk back to the table and refilled his glass: before going over to an ancient oak desk and sitting down. Placing the glass within arms reach, he pulled open the middle drawer of the desk and removed a piece of paper and an envelope, which he laid down in front of him. Reaching across the desk's surface, he picked up a silver frame-staring with eyes that had seen too much-at the picture encased within, before caressing the glass and putting it down to take up a pen.  
  
He had a letter to write.  
  
~*~  
  
(He smiled as he watched his lover tear like a child into the paper; stripping it away to reveal the rectangular box. Long fingers callused from years of sports moved with surprising delicacy to remove the silver medallion engraved with their initials and held it up by its chain. A gasp of awe left his mate, who turned shining eyes to him.  
  
"This is awesome! Thank you!"  
  
"There's an inscription on the back."  
  
A quick flip of a wrist and the back was exposed. There engraved in fancy script was the words, "Yours for eternity." Reaching down, he took the piece of jewelry and fastened it around his loves' neck. Planting a quick kiss on the tempting nape, he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day.")  
  
~*~  
  
Beloved,  
  
Valentine's Day is here. The fourth empty holiday, I've lived through since you left me. This place is so silent, I swear I can hear the walls crumble. Everyone-including Johnny-is steering clear of me. I suppose I did give them a very good reason to avoid me, after what I did to him.  
  
Is that the glint of a question I see in your beautiful eyes. Your photo doesn't do them justice, but then nothing but the real thing could have. But, I digress: you want to know what I did to Johnny. I slammed him against the wall and threatened to strangle him, if he didn't stop ranting about my putting our life behind me and starting over. Yes, it was rude, and tomorrow I'll apologize, but tonight is for us.  
  
My love, you have been such a bad influence on me. Before I met you, I would never have thought to do, let alone say, such a thing. It would have been beneath me. Yet, I wouldn't change a thing.  
  
No, that's not true, I would sell my soul to have you back with me for just one night. It would be worth an eternity spent in darkness, if I could make love to you again. Two years was just not enough time to learn all there was know about you. And I blush to think of some of the things that you have taught me.  
  
~*~  
  
"Come on! You promised you'd try it!"  
  
"No! No one of my House would do such a thing!"  
  
"Oh, back in master of the castle mode, are we. All right, but there is no way in hell, you will ever convince me that nobody in your precious family HAS never tried this. I KNOW what's in the dungeons, your highness! But, have it your way.  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I'm sleeping elsewhere. You aren't getting any until you decide to HONOR your word."  
  
"Come back, here! Oh, all right! I'll do it."  
  
"Knew you'd see it my way."  
  
"You just had to use that word, didn't you."  
  
"Worked, didn't it. Now, lay down on the bed and put your arms over your head."  
  
~*~  
  
Are you laughing at me? Really my love; that is most unseemly. But, then you never did learn the manners I tried to teach you, did you? Oh, well, that's what I got for living with such a free spirit. How I envied the careless way you did things; from trash talking Johnny to playing that game you loved so much.  
  
~*~  
  
"Noooooo!!!"  
  
Hands paused over chess pieces, as two friends looked up at each other in surprise. Then, they jumped to their feet and ran for the door. Out in the hall, they ran into Enrique, who joined them in their mad dash in the direction of the mournful cry.  
  
Racing down the stairs, the three found Oliver sitting on the floor rocking back and forth - keening in agony; the phone lying on the floor beside him. Enrique fell to his knees in front of his lover and reached for him. "Oliver! What's wrong!"  
  
The little Frenchman raised his tear stained face, darted a look over Enrique's shoulder, spotted a familiar pair of dark eyes and whispered, "I'm so sorry."  
  
~*~  
  
Did I mention that SHE called today? She called to apologize for the way she acted at the hospital. I'm afraid a little of your corrupting influence showed thorough. I told her that she was too little, too late, then I requested that she never call again.  
  
Now, you look sad. Please don't. Her conduct was inexcusable. The first words out of her mouth weren't "How is he?" They were "Where is his blade! " And I wasn't the only one offended by her attitude. Mr. Dickenson personally escorted her to the door of the waiting room and threw her out. She did have the decency to stay away from the funeral, although everyone else showed up-including the Demolition Boys. I must admit to being surprised at that.  
  
You would have been so embarrassed at the words of praise and admiration that your fellow competitors heaped on you. Even Kai unbent enough to say something. Later, at the funeral supper, I saw him holding hands with Rei. I hope they are luckier than the two of us and have a long life together.  
  
Why is it that it sometimes takes a tragedy to get people to get along? Mariah and Emily sat beside each other and cried on each other's shoulder. Lee and Steven were kept busy passing them tissues.  
  
~*~  
  
The young man laid down his pen and snagging the glass, he raised it to his lips and threw back half of its contents. Lowering the glass, he stared into the rich red wine. 'Perhaps, I should have Gustav bring me some brandy.' He thought. He considered the idea for a moment, before regretfully setting it aside. He needed his wits about him, and if he started drinking brandy . . . he set the glass down and took up the pen again.  
  
~*~  
  
I wish I could tell you what I said, when it was my turn to face everyone, but mercifully-it's all a blur. My only regret is that whatever I said is lost forever. I'm so greedy; I want everything (well, everything, but the car that killed you) that touched you in some way that I can get my hands on, so that in touching them, I'm touching you-again. But, Oliver says, I was magnificent. But, we both know how he loves to exaggerate, so I'm inclined to dismiss his assertion.  
  
~*~  
  
"I don't care if it was a gift from Enrique! I won't have that piece of filth in my garage! Damn you, it killed . . ."  
  
Johnny held up a placating hand. "I won't argue with you. So, what do you want done with it?  
  
"Send it to a junkyard and have it ground into powder, for all I care! Just get it out of my sight!"  
  
Johnny nodded, and went to convey the orders. Enrique's little roadster had been judged. Now, it was time to send it to its executioner.  
  
~*~  
  
I wish I could join you, but with you gone, my duty is to those who depend on me for their livelihood. So, be patient and wait; I swear by my honor, we will be together again one day.  
  
~*~  
  
Pausing, the grief stricken writer wiped his misty eyes on the sleeve of his silk shirt and reached with his off hand to grab his glass. He drained the glass in one gulp and flung it across the room, where it shattered upon impact with the red painted plaster wall.  
  
'Now,' He thought, 'I must finish this. I know my friends, they are hovering at the door, and that sound will bring them in here, determined to stop me, if I try anything stupid.' He laughed, bitterly. 'As if I could, damn my training!' He thought savagely, as he returned to writing furiously.  
  
~*~  
  
Michael, I will always love you.  
  
Yours for eternity,  
  
Sir Robert Jurgen  
  
~*~  
  
Just as he finished, the door behind him flew open and the other Majestic's strode in, determination in their eyes. They stopped, as the master of the house slowly folded a piece of paper, placed it in an envelope, sealed it and pushed back his chair. Taking the envelope with him; he walked past them to the fireplace.  
  
"Robert," Oliver said, softly, "What are you doing?"  
  
"Mailing a letter." The lavender-haired nobleman looked at his friends; his haunted eyes begging them to understand. "If you will give me just a moment, I will be at your disposal."  
  
Enrique walked to his friend and extended a hand. "Here, give it to me and I'll see that it goes out in the morning mail."  
  
He blinked, as a strange smile crossed Robert's face. "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I'm going to mail it, right now." With those words, Robert flung the missive into the hungry flames. For just a brief moment, the envelope blazed like a comet, before curling in upon itself and turning into cosmic dust.  
  
Johnny came to Robert's side and took him by the arm. "Come, its time to go to bed." Gently, the Scot led the unresisting German away, leaving the Frenchman and Italian to stare after them.  
  
Seeking comfort, Oliver leaned into Enrique, who wrapped his arm around his smaller lover. "What's wrong, my love?" He whispered, as he gently stroked the blonde's back in gentle circles.  
  
Sniffing, Oliver murmured, "Its just not fair! They overcame so much, only to have this happen!"  
  
"No, my little one, it is not fair," Enrique said, as he took Oliver's hand, and began to lead him from the room, "But no one ever said, life was fair. All we can do now is help Robert through this."  
  
And leaving the room, they closed the door, and went to take up their life's latest cause. 


End file.
